Hearts Unleashed: A Limited Edition Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Collection

by C. D. Gorri

  She leaned against the chair, slipped her hand into her cloak and ran her fingers over the amethyst stone her mother handed down to her years ago. She pulled power from this stone, recalling her mother’s words.

  Your great-great grandmother’s ashes were forged into this stone upon her death. You can pull power from it, and strength. She slipped her fingers around her neck, gently stroking the skin where she’d felt strangled. “I’ve told you what you need to know.”

  He leaned in closer. “You’re holding something back.” He lightly touched her chin and lifted her gaze to meet his own. “Tell me, let me help where I can, where we can.”

  She pulled away from him and raised her brow once more. She did not enjoy letting Gavin touch her this way. It gave him false hopes, made him imagine a promise she never made. Crossing her legs, she pulled her throwing bones from her cloak. Glancing up and finding no one watching them, she cast her bones across the tabletop. They laid about and she pointed to two that sat near one another.

  “This shows me the plague that is coming. These,” she pointed to another bone, “suggest the plague is not a disease, as such. Something dark, something evil is coming.” She pulled the bones back together and put them into her pocket. “There’s nothing more to tell. They are coming.”

  Gavin nodded and stood from the table, then left her be, and Sophia sighed in relief. The last thing she wanted was for Gavin to play the hero, to attempt to rescue her as if she were a damsel in a fairy tale. She could hold her own in hand-to-hand combat if required; her father at least taught her how to defend herself. Unfortunately, she didn’t have a chance in hell of firing one of the guns.

  Sophia glanced at the pistol at Gavin's waist, and it reminded her of how he had tried to teach her. She shivered with awkward discomfort at the memory of how he had used the opportunity to teach her to shoot, to wrap his arms around her, and make his amorous intentions clear.

  No. She would defend herself her own way, if it came to it.

  As twilight fell to evening, Gavin offered to walk her home. A wind sent a chill creeping across Sophia and she shivered. Gavin removed his coat and hung it over her shoulders. She smiled and accepted the gesture.

  “I was thrown out of church today.” She spoke in a soft voice.

  “What?” he asked and pulled her to a stop. “They did what?”

  She nodded. “I had my vision during service this morning. They threw me out and accused me of doing the devil’s work.”

  He inhaled a sharp breath through his nose. “They will hear from me on this! They cannot presume to think…”

  “Gavin,” Sophia started and placed her hands upon his forearms. “Please, it would only make the matter worse. In time, it will pass and the Signoras will have other topics of gossip to consume them.”

  He shook his head. “No, it is not acceptable.”

  “Oh, I agree with you, but at this moment, there is no point in arguing.” She turned away from him. “I do not care what people think.”

  “Maybe you should,” he countered and stepped in time with her. “People could bring charges against you.”

  “Then let them,” she fumed. “I will pack up and leave before they are able to do anything.” Silence fell between them. As they turned the corner to her alleyway, she looked up to him. “Thank you for walking me home tonight.” She pulled his jacket off and handed it back to him. “It is never a problem, Sophia. I would rather see you home safe than wake up to news of misfortune.”

  She nodded. “Again, thank you, Gavin.” She lowered her gaze and fished her keys from her cloak as a shadow fell across her face. She glanced over to find that Gavin had stepped closer. She closed her eyes, then shook her head. “Please, no. Besides, wouldn’t your ladies of the evening be jealous? Reserve your kisses for them.”

  He frowned. “Just on the cheek,” he whispered and leaned in, then kissed her. “I will take only as much as you are willing to give. And I will wait for you, for an eternity, my Sophia.” He lightly touched her cheek and kissed it once more, then ducked away from her home and headed out toward the main thoroughfare.

  Sophia sighed and entered her home, but not before glancing toward the Doge’s palace. The windows were an open expanse and lights were shining. She wondered if they were discussing politics, or the latest scandal. A chill swept over her body as she thought of the events from church today.

  “Signorina Marivic!”

  Sophia gasped as the landlady’s shrill voice called out into the night air. She furrowed her brows at the woman and stepped back out onto her porch, closing the door behind her. “Is something wrong?”

  “Yes!” the elderly woman declared. She walked slightly hunched over and her body looked as if it had not been washed in a month. “I do not run a whore house, Signorina Marivic! I have a good, moral boarding house and I have had it this way for many years! You will not take that from me with the gentleman callers!”

  “I beg your pardon!” she gasped. “For your information, although it is none of your business, the gentleman you saw is a friend, and nothing more. He saw to walking me home tonight so I would not be alone. Now I will bid you goodnight and forget this conversation ever happened!” Sophia turned her back on the woman before allowing her another word. She closed her door as the woman continued to berate her.

  Sophia rolled her eyes and readied herself for the evening. She had a long day tomorrow, working as a barmaid at the tavern by the Grand Canal. She yawned and laid down in her bed, then stretched. She longed for a few ways to burn logs as she shivered. As she began to drift off to sleep, her vision wavered. She thought at first it had to be because she felt tired. Then everything went black, shifting almost immediately to a kaleidoscope of colors.

  As the circling of colors slowed to still forms, the atmosphere felt warm, whereas a moment ago, chill had settled in for the night. Buildings tall and dark stood before her on a dirt paved road. Warmth enveloped her backside and she turned to face it. She gasped to the familiar man with the hat, who stood at a distance, his face turned up to the night sky. Smoke and flames erupted behind him in a fire so vicious, she felt herself step away, not wanting to be burned.

  He stood over the body of a woman, blood on his hands...maybe the woman’s blood? As his face lowered, a callous so pure of hate as he glared at the deceased woman’s body. She felt a longing to embrace the man, thinking, maybe hoping, he could not save her from the fire and he was in torment. Then as she stepped closer, Sophia gasped with her fingers over her lips. She shook her head and her eyes widened. The woman she looked upon...was Sophia herself. She stumbled backwards in her retreat, just as the man in the hat snarled to the night sky once more.

  She scooted across the ground and regained her feet. She inhaled and held her breath for a moment, then stepped closer to the bodies She stood over them, she touched her neck where the man in her vision had attempted to strangle her. She shook her head and took another step. A branch cracked under her feet. She glanced down, then when she looked up, she met his gaze.

  The man did a double-take and gasped, shocked. He lowered the woman’s body to the ground and stood. Did he see her? Recognize her? How could he? She was not there, only in her vision.

  Sophia screamed and sat up in bed, sweating as the chill of the air made her shiver. The vision of the man as clear as if she had just looked upon him. Who was this man in the hat? Did he kill her in the future? Did she just foresee her own death? She swiped her arm across her forehead, laid back down and stared at the ceiling. He would be arriving soon, bringing death with him.

  Chapter Three

  Swiping her brow across the sleeve on her chemise, Sophia glanced down at the material clinging to her arm as the heat of the tavern rose. Afternoon meal had arrived and patrons sat at the tables, the bar, anywhere they could find air to possess. She poured goblets of wine for some, and for a few, the ale. She set goblets on the tray she carried and brought it to a nearby table. The air stank of body odor and stale wine.


  A few familiar faces struck her as she nodded toward one, smiled to another. The shipping captains home from whatever journey their ships took them. One of the men she recognized as a somewhat-regular patron. The years and wind had not been kind, gifting him with deep lines on his leathery face. His oilskin coat was worn, and his beard had not seen a good washing in maybe a month. He brought the ale to his lips and took a drink, and she smiled when foam clung to his beard.

  She looked to the man sitting across from the captain and realized she did not recognize him. His small body sat forward in an effeminate sort of way. Dressed in all black, from his hat to his cloak, coat, and trousers. She noted, as her eyes roamed the length of him, his black stockings and shoes. His leather shoes actually appeared to be new, or maybe just well taken care of. She looked up to the stranger and raised her brow.

  New clerk of the Doge’s? she thought to herself. She sidestepped a few tables with a curious ear and leaned in toward the men as they conversed.

  “Your message was urgent,” the clerk said, his hands resting still on either side of his goblet. “At the very least, your messenger boy was quite out of breath.”

  “Aye,” the captain replied. He scrubbed a dirty hand over his leathery face. “I haven’t seen the likes of this ever, Signor Teodotto. Knew you’d want to know.”

  “Perhaps then you might speed your way to my enlightenment. I am a busy man.”

  The captain, who would most likely have given the young clerk a piece of his mind for insubordination had the younger man served on his ship, looked too worried to object to anything at the moment.

  “We arrived this morning.” The captain stared down at the table, his fingernails picking at the grain of the wood.

  “That is rather obvious.”

  “We weren’t due ’til this evening, wha’ wi’ the tides and wind.”

  “The sea is fickle. This is still not surprising.”

  “You wouldn’t say that if you had ever held the wheel of a ship or hung onto the rudder in the face of a storm. But yer lily white hands are showin’ me yeh have no idea what this means.”

  “Enlighten me.” It was surprising how menacing a faint sigh could sound from such thin lips.

  “There warn’t a storm to bring the winds we had, and the tides weren’t in our favor!” The captain brought his fist down on the table, which turned many gazes toward their table, including Sophia’s. “The wind comes out of nowhere, pushing us ’til we’re over on our keel. Then, sure as yeh blow a candle out, the wind stops, and we’re in the middle of the harbor wi’ no place to dock until ’til noon.”

  “So, your good fortune led to an inconvenience. My heart bleeds for you.” Signor Teodotto’s ferret-like face scrunched up in a sneer.

  “My good fortune could just save your city, you beef-witted puttock!” Another blow from the captain’s fists against the table caused his ale to splash over the sides of his mug. Sophia rolled her eyes. That would be sticky to clean up. The captain leaned in and lowered his voice, making her lean in as well, at least as subtly as she could. “There’s a plague comin’ to La Serenissima.”

  The clerk’s expression smoothed, and his eyes grew hard and bright. “Explain.”

  “We’re just in from Pula. People there were dyin’ strangely. Well enough in the evenin’ and dead by mornin’, not a mark on them.”

  “You’re saying this is not a plague of pox?” Signor Teodotto’s voice was so quiet and steady now, it was hard to believe that he was the supercilious bureaucrat of just a few moments ago.

  “I don’t know rightly what it is,” the captain admitted. “But...it ain’t natural. Not a pockmark, not buboe, not even a fever rash. Just dead. Lying in the street dead when they should be sleepin’ in their beds. We took a cargo of healthy nobles fleein’ the city and willin’ to pay, and then, the wind started.”

  Sophia reached into her pocket and she felt the bones against her fingertips. She moved them to and fro as she leaned even further in.

  “You fool! You blind worm!” the clerk hissed, his lips pulling back to reveal oddly small teeth. “You come to tell me of plague, but you may have brought it with you! I should put you and your ship to the flame.”

  Sophia’s mouth opened, agape from the news shared of the possible plague. My visions! No… She continued to listen in and prayed not to be discovered in her eavesdropping while a bead of sweat trickled down her back.

  She lifted a brow as she continued to spy on the conversation, when blackness gripped her vision. She bit her lip to keep from screaming outright from the shock of it.

  It was him, the man in her visions. He ran away from the flames, the burning castle with a sword in hand. Blood dripped from in against the wind. Sophia gasped and felt the heat of the fire, smelled the carnage in the air.

  Then as quickly as she went into the vision, it ended. She inhaled a sharp breath and appreciated the burn it left in her lungs. She eyed both the clerk and the captain and sighed in relief. No one had noticed her odd behavior.

  The captain grinned at the clerk, enjoying the other man’s impotent rage. He gulped down the rest of his ale and wiped his beard. “Too late now, your graciousness. An’ yer the fool if you think I survived this long goin’ port-to-port by not recognizin’ a sick person when I met ’em? Nah, yer graciousness can rest easy that I ain’t brought nowt o’ the plague wi’ me.”

  “If you are that sure of them, then you’ll have no problem giving me their names and the direction for where they shall be staying.” Signor Teodotto was calm again, and it was perhaps the speed with which his demeanor changed that frightened Sophia the most.

  The captain leaned back in his chair, pulling the sides of his coat together over his chest. He scratched his chin and looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully.

  “I don’t know rightly as I could tell you much about ’em, even if I cared to. Polite enough. Quiet. Kept to themselves, mostly in their cabin.”

  “You could hardly expect them to loiter about on deck with the midshipmen,” the clerk snapped. “Who are they? What are their names?”

  “Eh, afraid I can’t help yeh with that.”

  “You won’t tell me their names?”

  “I can’t tell you.”

  The clerk raised a brow. “Can’t, or won’t?”

  The captain smirked. “They paid me more than enough gold not to ask.”

  Signor Teodotto drummed his fingers. “You had best be sailing out with the next tide, captain.”

  “Wasn’t plannin’ on it.”

  “You should, if you wish to still have a boat to sail.”

  Surprised by the turn of the clerk, the power the man thought he held, she looked between both men, shocked, frightened, and fearful for who had arrived on this ship.

  The captain eyed the clerk shrewdly, then nodded. “A toast, then, to my next voyage. Girl!” He looked over at Sophia and waved her over.

  Sophia trembled at what had been said between the captain and this clerk. She stepped closer and made every attempt to not stare the man dressed in black in the eyes. Afraid of what might come from her mouth if she dared, speak, she pressed her lips together. Without checking the contents of the clerk’s goblet, she began to pour the wine, and missed it completely, spilling it on the table and his lap.

  She gasped and stepped back, dropping the tray she had been carrying, then covering her mouth with her fingers. “My apologies, sir!”

  Signor Teodotto shot to his feet, only tall enough to look her in the eyes, but the fury in his gaze was unmistakable. Until it changed. One moment, he gave a scornful once-over, and the next moment, his gaze became riveted to her neck. He leaned in slightly, and Sophia covered the pendant with her hand.

  Dear heavens, did he recognize this? Would he know what it means, the significance of the piece? She took a few steps back and bumped into another patron. She turned around and apologized. The man waved her off as a clumsy woman, and she shifted her gaze back to the clerk.


  He would have her face in memory now, which might not be in her favor. If anything were to take place, causing suspicion, he would have an easy finger to point. Most likely he’d heard of the outburst at church Sunday morning. Yes, one more nail in her coffin.

  “Girl!” Baroli bellowed, muscling his way through the crowd of patrons, heedless of what he caused to be spilled in the process. “I’ve warned ye before to watch yer clumsy hands! Now, look, yeh’ve spilled on a man worth ten o’ ye! Git the soldi you’re owed for the day and git ye gone!”

  Sophia gasped and her eyes burned with the onslaught of unshed tears. She shook her head no and took a step back. “No,” she whispered. “Please, it was an accident!” She glanced to the captain who sat stoically in his seat, though his eyes were bright with outrage. But he could be no help. An unexpected champion then spoke up for her.

  “My good Baroli, ah, si, si, I know of you very well,” Signor Teodotto said smoothly, looking at her thoughtfully. “’Tis of no account. The girl was startled. An innocent accident that could happen to any of us poor, frail mortals. I would take it as a personal...favor...if you would give her the benefit of your mercy.”

  Baroli choked on his own surprise, his eyes bulging slightly with something between shock and fear. “But, but of course, sir,” he spluttered. “As you wish, certainly. As you wish.” He rounded on Sophia. “Thank the gentleman for his graciousness!”

  She wondered if he knew how ironic his use of ‘graciousness’ was compared to the captain’s irreverent version. She turned in a slow movement from Baroli to look upon the clerk. She bowed a low curtsy. “Thank you, kind sir, for your generous mercy. I am not worthy of such a reprieve; however, I thank you for such kindness and will do all I can to deserve it.” She gazed up through her lashes, then lowered them once more.

  Signor Teodotto held his hand out and helped her to rise. “My dear girl, you are most welcome. But your cheeks are flushed, and your eyes are bright. Perhaps you are overwrought. Hmmm,” he tapped his chin as if in deep thought. “Perhaps you might benefit from a breath of air to return some of your composure. Baroli!” The portly tavern keeper shook like a badly-set aspic. “I assume you would have no objection to little Signorina―” he looked expectantly at her.